Airplanes
by JavaForever
Summary: Mend your broken heart...We made it...A splash of color..." POV switching between Luke and Lorelai. Subtle JJ. R&R please!
1. Airplanes

A/N: I'm developing a sort of fascination with the character of Luke! So this is pre-series, right as Rachel is leaving. It includes some flashbacks and is all Luke. There is no Lorelai here.

Disclaimer: Look, I can't come up with clever disclaimers for everything I write. I don't own!

Airplanes

You sit there on the hill staring at the airport. You hate planes right now. Not that you've ever actually been on a plane, but a plane is taking her away from you. That's a good enough reason to hate them. It's not as though the plane forced her to leave. Planes obviously can't do that. But she decided to leave you.

_You watch as she throws clothes into a suitcase. She is in a big hurry; you can tell._

"_Rachel," You say. "Why are you going to California?"_

"_I have to." She tells you like it's the millionth time she has done so. It probably is._

"_No you don't," You argue. "You can stay here. There are lots of photography jobs in the area. Any place would want to have you."_

"_Luke," She says pausing in her packing frenzy and turning to face you. "This is too good an opportunity to pass up. I have to go." She somehow misses the incredibly disappointed look on your face at her words. Everyone is leaving you and there's nothing you can do._

You have to wonder what you did wrong. Did you not pay enough attention to her? If you had devoted more time to her would she have stayed? What could you have done differently? Maybe she got tired of your grief. Of the attitude that you constantly carried around with you. Trying to fend off any potential friends just to keep from getting to close to them. You can see now what a trap it is to get close to someone. You start to love them. Need them in your life. And then, they leave. That's always the end. They die or they go off to California without another thought to it. You wonder if maybe she got sick of you for the nowhere that your life is going. No college, no ambitions, nothing.

"_Luke! Come on, let's go."_

"_I don't wanna." You slur drunkenly. There's a good reason to be talking like that – you are drunk._

"_It's time to go home." She says calmly, trying to placate you._

"_No!" You yell jerking your arm away from her grip. "I can't go back there!"_

"_Luke-" She starts, but you interrupt her._

"_Uh-uh, I wanna stay here." You whine leaning in to kiss her neck. It's sloppy; you're slobbering all over her. She stares at you sadly, blinking back tears._

"_I don't know what happened to you," She whispers. "You just aren't the same Luke that I fell in love with." She walks away without once looking back. You slump to the floor too exhausted to keep standing._

"_Rachel." You manage to call before the nausea hits and you are doubled over and the alcohol is forcing its way back up._

You watch the lights flare up on the runway. A plane prepares to take off. You glance down at your watch to check the time. 5:15. This will be her plane leaving now. You wonder if you can possibly run after her; stop her somehow. There is no way to do that though. All you can do as your first love prepares to leave you is to watch. The plane rolls forward; your heart rate picks up. She's leaving. The front wheels lift up slightly. The only person left in your life that you care about; she's leaving. The back wheels lift and the plane is in the air. She is flying away, escaping you, escaping her old life.

"_Goodbye Luke." She leans in and places a chaste kiss on your cheek._

"_Bye." You whisper watching as she turns her back on you and walks toward the waiting area for her plane. You can feel your heart breaking into a million pieces._

You nod as the plane disappears into the clouds. Another loved one gone. You climb into your truck, turn it on, and drive away. You know that there is comfort waiting in the fridge at home. It's the only thing you can think of to mend your broken heart.


	2. Preparing For Flight

A/N: So this was originally intended to be a one-shot, but I got some inspiration as well as some people asking me to continue. So here I am, continuing!

Disclaimer: Believe it or not, I don't own them. I know, it's a difficult concept to grasp.

Preparing For Flight

You stand in your yard. That's right. _Your_ yard. So maybe you don't actually own the house or the yard, but you will eventually. In the meantime, just living here is good enough.

Ever since you ran away from your parents you've wanted a better life for your daughter. You want her to have everything you didn't get and some things you did. You want her to know what it feels like to be loved and to be the center of someone's life. But you want to give her a nice home. You don't want her to be ashamed of you or anything in her life.

"_Mommy?" You hear her little voice ask timidly._

"_Yeah hon?" You inquire stopping your frantic cleaning to look down at her._

"_Why don't we live in a house?" You freeze, startled by her question. You had hoped that you would never have to answer that, but now you have to say something. What do you tell her?_

"_Well," You start. "We don't have enough money to buy a house."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because I don't earn enough money from doing my job to buy a house."_

"_Why?" You sigh._

"_Because being a maid isn't important as some other jobs and the people who do important jobs get more money." You pray that she accepts that and just moves on. You don't want to try to explain that you can't buy her everything; no matter how much you want to. You feel tears prick at your eyes._

"_Oh," She says. "Okay." You feel grateful that she isn't asking more questions. Quickly, you take your daughter into the kitchen and ask the staff to watch her as you race to the bathroom and collapse against the wall of one of the stalls. You sink down into a sitting position and bury your face in your knees. All alone, you cry for your daughter. She deserves so much more than this._

You watch that same little girl, seven years later, as she runs around the yard and the house. She finally has a house. You love watching her plan out where everything will go in her room. Where all her books will fit. It's adorable, but you almost feel bad that she would get so excited over living in a house. You walk inside quietly and stand observing her as she runs around her room. She is unpacking the boxes and putting everything where it will remain until that room is packed up. It truly amazes you how organized she is. Your complete opposite in that area. You were the essence of disorderly when you were her age. Your mother hated it so much. When was the last time you saw her? Oh yes, Christmas dinner. The only function you happily attend and she ruined it for you. Attacked you.

"Lorelai Gilmore you stop right there!" You stop and groan, knowing that you've been caught.

"_Yes mom?" You ask._

"_Where did that girl just say she lives?"_

"_That girl is my daughter mother!"_

"_Where did she say you live?" She demands again, louder._

"_In the potting shed." You mumble._

"_Where?"_

"_The potting shed at the inn. Where I work." You say more loudly this time looking her directly in the eye._

"_How could you?"_

"_How could I what?"_

"_How could you let that girl grow up in such poverty when she could have grown up here; with everything she needs!"_

"_Stop calling her 'that girl'. She has a name."_

"_Here you go. Always ignoring other people's attempts to help you."_

"_Hey!" You yell. "I do not ignore people when they try to help me, but you aren't trying to help me! You are trying to control me!"_

"_I am not trying to control you. I'm mad, and I have a right to be!"_

"_You what?" You stammer._

"_You dragged that girl away from us. You would rather have her life in a shed than have her near us. You are depriving her of so much that she could have; should have."_

_You hold her head up high and walk out of the party. You are determined to keep your mother from seeing how she hurts you. She can't see the tears that welled up in your eyes at her words. No one can._

You walk slowly out of the room and begin to wander around. You take in all the sights of the house. The kitchen where the coffee maker goes. The living room for watching movies. Up the stairs, into your bedroom. You sit down on the floor and let some tears fall down your face. You can't decide if they are happy tears or sad tears. You finally figure that they are a combination of both.

You walk over to one of the boxes and open it. There sitting on top is the card that Rory gave you for your birthday when she was five. She was so proud of it then. It was messy, sloppy, it looked like a five year old had made it, but she had made it for you. It was the most heartfelt present you ever received.

"_Here Mommy, I made this for you!"_

_You open it and read the words she so carefully printed out on the red construction paper heart._

"_Dear Mommy,_

_Happy berthday! I love you so much!_

_Love,_

_Rory"_

_You start to tear up and pull your daughter into a tight hug. You bury your face in her hair and whisper a thank you. Her little arms wrap around your waist and hug you back._

You walk down the stairs and see your daughter in the living room.

"Hey," She says. You smile at her and walk over pulling her into an embrace.

"We made it." You whisper.


	3. Taking Off

A/N: Another installment. There will probably be more after this! Luke's POV as he and Lorelai meet for the first time.

Disclaimer: I still don't own. rolls eyes

Taking Off

You work systematically. Take order, make food, deliver food. It's the same thing you've been doing for a long time. You might like stability and routines, but you wish that something would change. Just a little change might be nice. A shift. Something to rid you of the monotony that is your life. Your life since she got on that plane.

You stand in the middle of your apartment. You are on a mission. You need to rid your living space of everything that reminds you of her. You start by stripping all the sheets of your bed. You'll buy more tomorrow. The next things to go are all the pictures she took. You can't bear to throw them away though, so you put them in a box. The box will eventually be sent to her. Into the box go some clothes she'd forgotten in her packing frenzy, some jewelry, and her shampoo. That's all that was in your apartment that still had remnants of her. Now those things are packed in a box. You put the box next to your door and go downstairs. You need to buy new sheets.

Emptying your apartment is probably the last stimulating thing you've done. You sigh and start to pour coffee into the cup of a waiting Kirk. The bells above the door chime loudly and the door itself bangs open. You jerk your head up to see who the idiot who tried to throw your door off its hinges is, and find yourself face-to-face with the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen. You're breathless, but apparently she isn't.

"Hi!" She exclaims. "Is that coffee? Can I have some? I really need some. See, we ran out at my house and my daughter didn't tell me and now I'm suffering withdrawal. Can I have some of that please?"

"Luuuuuke!" Kirk whines. You realize that you only filled his cup a quarter of the way. You bend down, finish pouring and walk over to take the orders of a couple waiting at a table. You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around to see that woman standing there again.

"Hi." She says. "Can I please have that coffee now?"

"I have to get these peoples' orders." You tell her shortly and turn away.

"All I want is coffee! These people want a whole meal! It'll only take you a minute to get my coffee."

You sigh and glare at her. "These people were here before you. They've been waiting. Take a seat, I'll be with you in a minute." You are gratified to see that she takes your advice and sits down at the counter.

You take the orders and go into the kitchen to make them. Five minutes later, you come out and get the orders of the next people in line. As you pass the woman on your way back to the kitchen, she taps your shoulder again.

"Can I have my coffee now?" She asks.

"No!" You exclaim. "I have more orders to get, so just sit back down and shut up! I'll get to you when I get to you!"

She sticks out her lower lip in a pout and sits back down. You go back into the kitchen and emerge a few minutes later carrying plates. On your way back she calls out to you. "When's your birthday?"

You sigh. "Why do you want to know my birthday?"

"Just tell me."

"No."

"Don't want me to know your real age?"

"I don't usually tell strangers my birthday."

"Oh come on, just tell me!"

"Fine!" You exclaim. You bend down and whisper it to her. She smiles widely and thanks you.

Five minutes later you are about to go into the kitchen again when she stops you. She hands you a strip of newspaper. You read the words to yourself.

"You will meet an annoying woman today. Give her coffee and she'll go away."

You roll your eyes, walk over to the coffeepot, grab her a to-go cup, and fill it up. "Here." You say, handing it to her.

"Thanks!" She exclaims. She takes a sip. "Oh my God!" She cries.

"What?"

"This is heavenly!"

You smile slightly. You can remember the first time someone told you that.

You hand your dad the cup of coffee. The first cup you'd ever brewed. You watch as he takes a sip and relish the smile that crosses his face.

"This is the best coffee I've ever tasted." He declares. You grin proudly. It's a high complement coming from your dad.

You nod. "Thanks." You say.

She reaches into her purse and pulls out a crumpled dollar bill. "Here you go-" She starts, but stops short.

"Luke." You supply.

She grins. "Here you go Duke."

"Luke." You correct.

"Amazing coffee! Just what I needed! My name's Lorelai, bye the way! Bye Duke!" She calls and sails out the door. You sigh and watch her leave. You have the feeling that you'll be seeing her again. You ponder her words. _"Just what I needed!"_

_That's right. _ You think. _A splash of color. Unusual. She's just what I needed._

TBC…


	4. Landing

A/N: This will be the final installment of this particular story. Thanks to all who stuck it out, despite the long waits between updates!

Disclaimer: I should really leave this blank, since it requires no words, but I'll do it for the sake of fanfiction. I don't own Gilmore Girls.

You glance at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is down, your makeup done, the dress looks beautiful. This is your fantasy. It has been your dream for so long, and now it is finally coming true. Today, you marry Luke Danes.

_You stand before the minister, twisting your hands nervously. The smile on your face is just a ghost of the real one you once wore. The one that lit up your face and made your eyes sparkle with happiness. Honestly, you don't understand what you're doing here or why you're even doing it. What compelled you to marry this man? And so soon? It's all a mistake, but you can't take it back now. It would crush him. But it's slowly crushing you._

_"__I now pronounce you husband and wife."_

_And it feels so wrong._

You draw in a deep breath and turn to face your daughter.

"You ready?" she asks.

"Lets do this." You turn toward the exit of this room and the entrance of your new life.

_You really can't understand what possessed you to get married in the first place. Looking back on it now, you can see that you never really loved the man. What were you thinking? You married him on a spur of the moment whim, and that backfired so horribly on you._

_Once again, you are alone. Another failed relationship and you remain by yourself in all of it. Will things ever get better?_

You wait in the back for your cue to walk down the aisle. The music starts, your father takes your arm, and the two of you proceed. And while the music plays and all eyes are on you, the only thing you see is him. He looks so gorgeous today. If he knew that you thought so, he would insist that men aren't gorgeous, but he really is. He has that look to him; so happy, like nothing in the world could bring him down off that cloud he's on.

You aren't focused on anything but him, and before you know it, you're right there across from him. Through the whole ceremony, you say the words required of you, but your mind is a million miles away. You're thinking of him.

_"I love you," he says, smiling hugely._

_"__I love you too,"_

_"__I have a question for you," he says, his eyes twinkling with the remains of that smile on his face._

_"__Shoot,"_

_He quickly drops to one knee and pulls out a small velvet box. "Marry me?"_

Your eyes fill up with tears as things continue. He is staring at you just as intently as you are at him. He is smiling and if you didn't know better, you'd swear his eyes look watery.

You really can't believe how perfect things feel right at this very moment. You can see your future and it's with him. You can see the kids, and the house. The package, and the middle. You see it all right in front of your face. And you know that this time, you aren't going to miss out on it. You smile at your soon-to-be husband and he smiles back. Things are going to turn out to be as close to perfect as they can ever get. You know it.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife."

And it feels so right.

The End.


End file.
